'During this new year I resolve to begin a new life. I do not know what will happen to me during this year. But I abandon myself entirely to You, my God. And my aspirations and all my affections will be for You. I feel so weak, dear Jesus, but with Your help I hope and resolve to live a different life; that is, a life closer to You.'
Like many, we've been receiving greetings wishing us a Merry Christmas. These welcome cards and letters have updated us on the lives of family and friends, and have given us a deeper sense of connection to others who are celebrating the birth of Our Lord.
People 'out in the world' are not the only ones who offer Christmas updates. Click on the following lines to see what some of our monastic friends are up to during this holy, joyful time of year!
It's a bad time of year to be hurting. Not that there
is a good time for pain, of course, but the days around Christmas and New
Year's can be particularly poignant for some.
Many of us have had such seasons. Times when we can't be with loved ones,
or a close friend has died, or we've suffered a miscarriage, or
we're sick, or we've lost our job, or there is illness in the family.
Even the time of year can make us feel blue. Here in the northern
hemisphere, night falls early in these months of bleak midwinter. We may be
struggling to adjust to the long, long, long dark.
For anyone reading this who is sad, in pain, or maybe just wishing the holidays
would be over and gone - know that you're not alone. In fact, you are so 'not
alone' that I'm going to ask a favor of everyone reading this.
Could we each take just a minute and offer a little prayer for anyone coming
across these words who might be hurting? If this gets to a number of
people, that could amount to quite a few prayers.
May God lift burdens, heal pains, comfort loneliness, and soothe hearts.
'We beseech You, Lord and Master, be our help and succor, save those among
us who are in tribulations, have mercy on the lowly, lift up the fallen, show
Yourself to the needy, heal the ungodly; convert the wanderers of Your people,
feed the hungry, release our prisoners, raise up the weak, comfort the
fainthearted, let all nations know You are God.' (St. Clement of Rome)
'Cast all your cares on Him, because He cares for You.' (1 Peter 5:7)
'My soul is poor and bare of virtues,
the straws of so many imperfections
will prick You and make You weep;
but O, my Lord, what can You expect?
This little is all I have.
I am touched by Your poverty...
Jesus, honor my soul with Your presence,
adorn it with Your graces.
Burn this straw
and change it into a soft couch
for Your most holy body.
'Jesus, I am here waiting for Your coming.
Wicked men have driven You out
and the wind is like ice.
Come into my heart.
I am poor, but I will warm You
as well as I can....
'I want to adore You,
to kiss You on the brow, O tiny Jesus,
to give myself to You once more, forever.
Come, my Jesus, delay no longer.
Come, be my Guest.'
'The nine months draw to a close, and our Lord's last act is to journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem. It is toward us, as well as toward Bethlehem, that He is journeying. He is about to leave His home a second time for the love of us. As He had left His uncreated home in the bosom of the Father, so is He now going to leave His created home that He may come to us and be still more ours.'
"The traditional Christmas tree is a
very ancient custom which exalts the value of life, as in winter the
evergreen becomes a sign of undying life. In general the tree is
decorated and Christmas gifts are placed under it. The symbol is also
eloquent from a typically Christian point of view: it reminds us of the
'tree of life' (Genesis 2:9), representation of Christ, God's supreme
gift to humanity. The message of the Christmas tree, therefore, is that
life is 'ever green' if one gives: not so much material things, but of
oneself: in friendship and sincere affection, and fraternal help and
forgiveness, in shared time and reciprocal listening." Pope St. John Paul II
'Joy is the true gift of Christmas, not the expensive gifts that call for time and money. We can communicate this joy simply: with a smile, a kind gesture, a little help, forgiveness. And the joy we give will certainly come back to us.'
'How to find Christmas peace in a world
of unrest? You cannot find peace on the outside but you can find peace
on the inside, by letting God do to your soul what Mary let Him do to
her body; namely, let Christ be formed in you....
'As He was physically formed in her, so
He wills to be spiritually formed in you. If you knew He was seeing
through your eyes, you would see in every fellowman a child of God. If
you knew that He worked through your hands, they would bless all the day
through.' Bishop Fulton J. Sheen
Sometimes the activities
of Advent and Christmas can feel like an intrusion. Day to day life is more or
less put on hold by an urgent need to shop and wrap and plan. Chairs and tables
are displaced by, of all things, a tree in the middle of our house. There
is no time to do ordinary things, as everyday life is seriously disrupted for
weeks on end. It can seem like a major interruption.
A few years ago, the truth of it hit me.
This is what Christmas has been since the instant of the Incarnation: an interruption.
Please stay with me here, because our first reaction to the word “interruption”
could be negative. But interruptions are often quite positive, and this
Interruption was the most positive of them all.
Think of it. Mary was living a quiet, hidden
life. She was betrothed. Then one day an angel appeared to her, and with
that Holy Interruption Mary’s life was changed forever. As was Joseph’s, as was
yours, as was mine.
As we know, there was a Birth. There
were shepherds tending their flocks, and again an angel appeared. A night
of sheep-watching was interrupted.
While most of the world went on unaware, a
few men in the east noticed something out of the ordinary. A sign in the
sky. Something signaling, to them, a wondrous Interruption – one so
marvelous that they must drop any other plans they had and go in haste, and
they must bring gifts. These men were wise enough to know that somehow
the world had changed, maybe even that the course of life on earth had been
altered.
The change was so shattering that mankind
took notice. Calendars would later mark the divide.
God Himself had split the heavens.
We now measure time by the before and after
of that Grand Interruption, in effect saying that yes, we see. We may not understand,
really, but we recognize the wonder and the mystery of it. God interrupted the
cycle of sin and death by breaking into our world (John 3:16). Jesus
broke into the flesh of man, shattering hopelessness with His power and mercy.
With Jesus' arrival in the flesh, God
interrupted our misery. He opened to us the path to salvation.
When I feel stressed by Christmas
interruptions, I try to remember what I'm celebrating. Death was interrupted by
Life. Despair was interrupted by Hope.
With His glorious interruption, God tore
through the fabric of time.
This time last year, I shared an archived post called 'The Advent Window' for It's Worth Revisiting Wednesday. Because Advent presents such an ideal opportunity for sharing Christ with others, I'm now revisiting this anew.
My 'Advent Window' opened when I was twenty years old. I was in what I call my 'God doesn't bother me and I don't bother Him' phase. There was so much to do... friends to hang out with, boys to date, parties to go to. I took no time to think about God; in fact, I was ignoring Him altogether.
God, however, was 'thinking' of me, and began reminding me of Himself through a series of little seasonal things. A song heard on the radio, a nativity scene featured on the courthouse steps, Christmas songs piped into stores to draw customers, strains of O Come Let Us Adore Him wedged between Have a Holly Jolly Christmas and Here Comes Santa Claus. One song in particular stood out to me that year, with its announcement that 'Jesus the Savior is Born.' I didn't know what was happening to me when I heard those five simple words on the radio. I only knew my heart felt strangely warmed.
I've heard discussions about whether or not Christmas should be celebrated before the 25th. After all, it's still Advent. In the Church, it is a time for quiet, for prayer, for gentle shades of purple. In the physical monastery, hearts wait in hushed anticipation.
But most of us live out in the red and green neon of the world. We're where bells jingle, songs jangle, nerves frazzle, patience frays. Because of my long ago 'Advent window,' however, I believe these weeks before Christmas bring rare moments when the love of Christ can be smoothly shared with neighbors, co-workers, family members, store clerks, acquaintances, friends.
In the midst of a secular, godless, 'we're-doing-fine-by-ourselves' world, there appears in this one season a window of opportunity. There is a slot, a crack in the Everyday. A few short weeks during which the whisper of God might be heard through carol or card.
In recent years, we have seen that crack narrow. The courthouse steps of my youth haven't seen a nativity display in years. But even now, somewhere between shoppers lined up for black Friday and the queues awaiting after-Christmas sales, there is still a window of opportunity. A time when someone rushing through a store might catch the strains of an old familiar carol, one she's heard every Christmas since childhood. Yet this time, the words sound different. She remembers a Babe in a manger, and her heart is strangely warmed.
This is a season when we can smoothly and naturally acknowledge (like at no other time) the One Who was born for us. After all, few friends would toss out cards that have nativity scenes on them. Neighbors visiting our homes won't be offended by the words of 'Silent Night.' It's all just part of the season, part of the holidays, part of the fun.
The Church will begin Christmas music and celebrations on the 25th. But out here in the world, the Advent window is now wide open.
This is when scenes and songs normally found only in Church can spill out into the world.
And who knows? Someone years from now might look back on a card you or I sent this season, and recall that 2016 was her own special Advent. We just never know.
